laying on the floor.

********

laying on the floor:

trying to be in the moment.

but:

thoughts flow.

endlessly.

memories and writings.

laying on the floor on my back.

endless flowing thoughts....

listening to jackson browne play piano.

remembering:

1996.

i wanted to take a friend to a concert.

he backed out because his wife was returning.

she was coming back.

he and i were friends.

not lovers.

although when we said goodbye at the airport:

we kissed.

i wore cream-colour'd linen pants

and a dark heather'd blue wool henley sweater.

i wanted so badly to have a friend with me:

i wanted a hand to hold.

or at least sit close.

our knees and shoulders touching

lightly

and

magically.

so here i lie: on the floor.

i keep a pile of favourite things close by.

i've had only one injury in my long career.

only one.

but this one: it's a doozy.

when i reach the wrong way, when my mind gets twisted:

my wee hobbit pelvis reflects 

what is going on in my mind and my body. 

every once in a while:

it brings me to tears.

it puts me on the floor.

around my neck:

a totem for my aching bones.

in my heart:

a longing to remain in the moment.

in my tears:

a longing to be.

just.

be.

you’ve known that hollow sound of your own steps in flight
you’ve had to hide sometimes but now you’re all right

********